


Title in progress

by Someone_end_me



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Cant Stop Me Now!, Crowley was Raphael before he fell, F/M, Gabriel - Freeform, M/M, Raphael!Crowley, aziraphale - Freeform, crowley - Freeform, saw it on tumblr and now its my canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 09:28:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20133193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Someone_end_me/pseuds/Someone_end_me
Summary: To say that creating the cosmos was difficult would not be accurate. When he was who he used to be, creating stars and planets and other little bits and bobs of the likes were not the challenging part. It was the company.OrA look into Crowley's life before he fell, when he was known as Raphael, and then when he fell, and a little bit after that too.





	Title in progress

To say that creating the cosmos was difficult would not be accurate. When he was who he used to be, creating stars and planets and other little bits and bobs of the likes were not the challenging part. It was the company. Their wings would often brush up against each other as they worked, their hands both reaching for the same thing and lightly grazing each other.  
No, the work was not easy. It took time, and time hadn't even entirely been invented yet, and it was tiring. But enjoyable nonetheless. Gabriel though, he was awful. Truly horrendous. Utterly despicable. And unfathomably gorgeous.  
The angel had not lost a great many of the things that made him beautiful in Crowleys eyes when he first saw him again, after all those millennia; but he had grown oh, so hateful.  
They both had if he was honest with himself, which he rarely was, old wounds had festered and became infected in both of them. New memories were healing the hurt like a fresh layer of skin, trapping the infection deep. Almost forgotten, but still there. Like an itch under a tight pair of jeans.  
Which Gabriel doesn't even know the feeling of if his lackluster suit was any indication of his fashion choices. Then again, he had always been that way.  
Crowley often dreams of those days spent in the sky, Gabriel by his side with his ridiculous commentary on the ongoings of their siblings and cousins and second cousins and third cousins and...the other angels. He dreamt of walking the grounds with Lucifer when he still remembered him, when they were still _holy_, if they had ever been such a thing, picking flowers he could never find a suitable replacement for here on Earth or down in Hell. Astorath had a surprising love for flowers, but only flowers.  
Crowley hated those dreams.


End file.
